Pour Some Sugar On Me
by MakeACircuitWithMe
Summary: When a human girl visits the lake and finds she's being watched, she decides to have a little bit of fun with the culprit. Human x Mech. Multiple TF characters. ***READ & REVIEW - LET ME KNOW SO I CAN MAKE MORE***


The waves lapped at my thighs as I waded toward the shore, relishing the squish of the sand between my toes as I did. It had been a long time since I'd been able to enjoy some downtime off-base; even longer since I'd been able to enjoy it alone. Not that I minded my companions of course. Not by far. But sometimes you just need a little "Me Time" to collect your thoughts, recharge your battery, and let the weight of the world slide off your shoulders. I'd mentioned my need for some downtime previously, and although it was agreed it would be good for me, something always managed to come up. Timing is everything as they say, and I've always had decent luck with timing, be it for better or worse.

With summer's end rapidly approaching, I was grateful to finally be granted my solace. Things had been relatively quiet lately. And with reports of new arrivals, I was practically guaranteed time alone. The only requisite being that I need to stay near some semblance of population and that it would only be for one day. My choice was simple really. Go to the lake my parent's had brought me to for so much of my childhood. The lake nestled in the mountains upstate, with the quaint village full of history and tourist traps. The lake that had been carved by glaciers from granite mountains, and whose deep waters still ran icy cold.

I'd been dropped off earlier this morning. Here at the beach. I was given the time and place to be for pick up. I was told to be careful. I was patted on the top of my head and told to behave myself. Then I'd been left alone. I'm not a child. Far from it. But in their eyes, I suppose… They mean well, so it's easily forgiven and forgotten.

The last few hours had been spent floating in the lake, lounging on the sand, and even helping some kids build a sandcastle. The latter of course earning me strange looks from their parents. I hadn't even thought about grabbing something to eat till the parents rounded the kids up for lunch. Suddenly it seemed like the best idea in the world.

I padded across the fine sand to my pile of belongings. Hmmpphh. Could I really even call it that? My belongings consisted of an oversized t-shirt, my "holy" shorts, and a pair of slip on sandals. I shook the sand off my t-shirt and slid it on. No surprise that it absorbed the moisture from my swimsuit and clung to my form in the appropriate places. I held my "holy" shorts up for examination. I'd gotten grief over wearing them this morning. And not the grief you'd expect.

"_She can't wear those. They're barely functioning"_

"_I agree. They hardly serve the purpose they were designed for. They should be terminated."_

"_I dunno. I think they look good on her. Really good."_

"_Of course you do. It doesn't, however, change the fact that the upper support has been reduced to little more than two threads. The lower support…I can't even figure how it's managed to stay attached. Why wear them at all?"_

"_Why indeed?"_

"_Do you need reprogramming?"_

I let the smirk grace my lips as I shake the sand from them, and step into them, mindful of course not to put my foot through the large hole that was the remains of the "lower support". I don't even bother with the shoes; instead carrying them as I began walking towards the village. My mind begins drifting and wandering, as I pass the fort, the Minne-Ha-Ha, the Mohican, and the Lac du Saint Sacrement. My bare feet warmed by the pavement as the marina gives way to shops. So many shops, yet none of them selling what I'm craving, but if memory serves…. Yes, here it is. Ben & Jerry's.

I open the door and step inside; the polar blast of the AC sending goose bumps down my arms and spine. It only takes a moment in line, they are blessedly quick here, and I'm out the door and back into the summer sun. I continue to trek up the main drag, enjoying my mint chocolate chip, and giving every car I pass a once-over. It's become habit lately. Always check the vehicles you pass…

_Ford. Ford. Chrysler. Does no one round here have any taste in cars? Must belong to the tourists. Nissan. Toyota. Harley. GM. Ok. That's better. SUV. Minivan. Cop car. Convertible. Minivan. POS._

I stop 'bout half a block further up the street. I cock my head to the side, and catch a large blob of ice cream oozing on to my thumb with my tongue. Something's not right. I run my tongue around the cone in a swirling motion.

_SUV. Minivan. Cop car. Convertible._

I kiss the tip of the swirl, sucking it into my mouth, and biting it off.

_Cop car._

I turn around and begin walking back towards Ben and Jerry's. I slowly stroll past the row of cars to the small park at the end of the block; lapping at my frozen treat, and inspecting the vehicles from the corner of my eye. Once I reach the park, I find a large maple to lean against and pretend to watch the traffic. I'm really keeping my eye on just one thing though. A decision is made…and executed.

I steady my feet under me and push off from the tree. It only takes a moment to walk up the street. I pass Ben and Jerry's again. I pass the Fords and Chrysler, pass the imports and the bike, the GM, the SUV, the minivan, the cop car. Two steps beyond the front bumper of the cop car, I make a sharp left and saunter between the cruiser and the convertible. Half way to traffic, I stop and in one swift motion, hop on to the cruiser. It only takes a moment more to position my feet on the brush guard, and slide my rear end further back on the hood; leaving my feet propped on the bar. I'm certainly earning some strange looks from passers-by, as I sit on the cruiser eating my rapidly melting ice cream. Earning some lewd comments from a few passing guys as well.

"I know what you are." I say in a most nonchalant tone before swirling my tongue around the cone again.

My comment goes unanswered. I shift on the hood, leaning back ever so slightly.

"Oh, I see. Trying to blend in and playing it cool, huh? Hmmmm……"

There's no reply to my question.

"Well, too bad, cos it's _sooo_ hot out here. My ice cream is melting pretty quick, you know."

In a long, slow, exaggerated motion, I snake my tongue around the icy confection. My actions still fail to elicit a response from anyone but the teen-aged boys passing by.

"You _DO_ know that ice cream melts into a sticky, sticky mess when it's hot out, don't you? As hot as it is today, I wouldn't be surprised if some of it didn't wind up dripping all over your nice, shiny hood…"

I do my best to feign innocence, while making the statement, but my efforts continue to go unrewarded.

"Hmmmm…."

I lap at the cream with long, deliberate strokes, knocking the mound slightly off center.

"I've got all day. How bout you?"

Still nothing. Clearly this has evolved into a battle of wills, and I'm determined not to be one-up'd. It's time to raise the stakes. Double or nothing.

"I see. Well…"

With a cocky little smirk, I tilt my head to the side, and stretch my arm out behind me, suspending the cone as close to dead center over the cruiser's hood as I can manage. I tip the cone slightly and relish the feel of the glob sliding across my fingers. My smirk widening to a grin as the glob makes contact with the once immaculate paintjob.

I continue to look up the street as the cruiser's sirens wail and the lights pulse, but I'm not moved from my perch. I earn confused looks from pedestrians and shop keepers; I just smile at them, shrug my shoulders, and continue to enjoy my mint chocolate chip. The sirens continue their protest for nearly two minutes before I lean forward, placing my head closer to the front grill.

"So what? You think that's gonna bother me? Maybe you haven't noticed, as pretty as your light show is – it's just a show. No real-live-in-the-flesh cop has come out here to yell at me to get my ass off his car. And it looks like even the locals have already lost interest. No one cares."

The lights and sirens cease as quickly as they'd begun, and I lean back into my original pose, wiggling my bare toes on the black push bars. My grin retires to a smirk as I return my attention to my ice cream. My tongue circles the cone catching the drips running down the sides. As my tongue reaches the lip of the cone, it nudges the ball of unmelted mint, splashing cream over the edge. It lands with a small splat on the hood between my legs and runs down the center groove; tiny droplets falling one by one over the grille.

The car shivers and shudders beneath me.

"Still not crying uncle, huh? Well… I could always go get a Mountain Dew. You know. Lime green. Pure sugar. Made from 100% unnatural ingredients. But I should warn you, I have a nasty habit of spilling my drinks. Guess I'm just a bit on the clumsy side. You won't mind tho, will you?"

The passenger door flies open, and a voice growls at me.

"Get in!"

Smug in the satisfaction of having won, I slide off the cruiser and walk around to the open door.

"Lose the nourishment! NOW!"

"Awww… Wuzza matter? Big ol' cop car afraid of a little dairy? Let me guess. You're lactose intolerant, aren't you?"

The engine growls harsh and deep, and I can't help but giggle, amused to death with myself.

"Ok. If you insist…"

I walk over to the nearest garbage can, taking a deliberately long last lick, starting at the base of the cone and gliding my tongue to the tip. My lips purse and kiss at the remaining ball, sucking at the top receiving just the teensiest bit to be savored. I drop the remainder into the can, and begin walking back, placing each finger fully into my mouth and dragging it out slowly, being sure to lick any remaining cream off them. I run my tongue across my lips, catching any stray drops.

I sit on the edge of the seat and swing my legs in. The door closes behind them.

"I am _sooo_ not amused. You do realize this, don't you?"

"If you say so."

I can't help but snicker the teensiest bit.

"But you know, your camo is just the teensiest bit off."

I squint my eyes and squeeze my fingers together to illustrate my point as we pull out into traffic.

"Oh? And how exactly do you figure that?"

"Well, for starters, we're in New York, not Vermont. Just thought you should know…"

The engine hitches slightly. I roll my eyes and look off out the window. Biting my lip and fighting hard to keep from outright laughing my ass off.

"Are you always this annoying?"

"Well, Bumblebee and Sideswipe think I have plenty of room for improvement in that department…"

"Joy."

That's it. I've reached my breaking point. I can't contain myself anymore and bust a gut laughing. My traveling companion is not so easily amused. The lights begin flashing and the siren wails hard and fast as he aggressively accelerates down the highway.

…….

Ok. Disclaimers.

Transformers belong to Has/Tak.

Ben and Jerry's belong to well… Ben and Jerry I assume

The Minne-Ha-Ha, Mohican and Lac du Saint Sacrement belong to whoever owns them.

All other brand names belong to their respective owners.

The rest belongs to me.


End file.
